


fingerprints

by gotchick



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mild Internalized Homophobia, Self-Acceptance, fem jackson, het markson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 01:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16337465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotchick/pseuds/gotchick
Summary: "Hold on to this feeling."(In which Jaebum is a photographer and Jinyoung is an Instagram model)((edited))





	fingerprints

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry for taking this down the day before - i noticed some minor discrepancies and pacing issues and wanted to edit them, but in the end didn't end up doing much in the way of editing. if you read it the previous time, don't bother to read it again haha, i changed so little you probably won't even notice where's different :)
> 
> i know some people were disappointed it disappeared before they could read it - it's not all that great and the ending is kinda rushed, but i appreciate your wanting to! ;; i should have just left it up while editing lol. and i feel bad all the kudos and beautiful comments i received are gone too, but thank you so much to every single person who commented - i read and treasured your comments. special mention to my best friend p. and starryshin, your lovely comments meant so much to me and dw i didn't edit it because of you ;) to starryshin i was so happy about you calling it "quiet and unfurling" bc that was exactly what i was going for :)
> 
> disclaimer again that i know zilch about photography so there are probably tons of factual inaccuracies but i hope you enjoy anyways :)

"So… Why do you take photographs?”

They’re sitting on the banks of another ubiquitous Taiwanese beach when Jinyoung pops the question. It’s something about the spark in Jaebum’s eyes as he takes stock of the horizon, half pure admiration, half calculation. Only the slight narrowing of his sharp eyes and the thumb carelessly brushing his camera tells Jinyoung he’s thinking of how the setting sun would look from his viewfinder.

It’s only been a month and half since they were introduced, but Jinyoung feels like he’s known Jaebum longer than that. Maybe it’s because they’re both Korean; maybe it’s just a one-sided illusion. The way objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.

He can’t help feeling warm, though, when Jaebum does things like this: tilting his head and pondering his question seriously, not taking his eyes off the view. A moment later, he replies.

“I never really thought I’d pursue photography as more than a hobby. It was like… one thing led to another. At first, I didn’t even take photographs. I just imagined taking them. Every once in a while, an urge would grip me out of the blue — a voice telling me this scene I was staring at would make a great picture. The composition of objects no one would have thought to match, miraculously falling into place. Accidental gorgeousness. But understated at the same time.

“At those moments, it felt like time would freeze and I’d mentally take a snapshot of the landscape in my mind. Unconsciously, just for myself. No one else except me would ever see it, and I’d probably forget it by the next day, but it didn’t matter. I’d experienced that feeling, and I’d hold on to that warmth and purity.

“Later on, a friend showed one of my casual pictures to a photography teacher — it’s a long story. I’d just been messing around when I took it, for my friends, but the teacher contacted me and offered to write me a recommendation if I wanted to major in it after graduating high school. He said he knew a professor who specialised in street photography, slice-of-life stuff like mine — but I’d have to apply to an overseas university.”

“So here you are,” Jinyoung finishes. It’s the most Jaebum’s ever said to him, but it doesn’t feel awkward, or momentous. Just natural. That’s probably what he likes about Jaebum, how his confidence never asserts itself nor feels forced. His charmingly effortless self-assurance.

Jaebum smiles then, briefly, and not for the first time Jinyoung wants to wrestle the camera easily from him and snap a photograph. It probably wouldn’t be any good, though. Definitely wouldn’t come close to capturing the brilliance of Jaebum’s smile.

 

It’s been real nice, being able to speak Korean for the first time in almost a year for the past six weeks. It’d been a happy and unlikely coincidence that they’d even met, and he hadn’t even known Jaebum’s ethnicity when Jackie asked him for a favour — her boyfriend’s friend needed a model for an assignment. Jackie bragged that he was the star pupil of the photography elective Mark was taking, and that Jinyoung wouldn’t come out of the deal empty-handed — the excellently-shot pictures would definitely boost his Instagram likes.

Instagram was where Jinyoung first met Jackie soon after he came to Taiwan, as well. Her first sentence when she approached him in the cafeteria of their university had been, “You’re that Instagram model, aren’t you?”

He’d blushed back then, it being the first time he’d been called as such. Just a year ago, his Instagram had less than half the followers it currently has, and this is thanks in part to his occasional features on Jackie’s Youtube channel. Needless to say, she’s a popular Youtuber, on par with the likes of Snowbaby.

So of course he’d been blown away to know that Jackie followed him on Instagram, being the _wanghong_ she is. When he confessed this, stammering and awestruck, Jackie had laughed the big belly laugh he’d come to know so well in the following year, and said wasn’t he a _wanghong_ himself? He couldn’t be unaware that he was hot property among the girls at their school, even the upperclassmen, could he?

They were getting on like a house on fire when a guy walked up quietly, sizing up Jinyoung none too amicably. He was sensitive enough to intuit this must be one of Jackie’s many suitors, but didn’t expect him to be her actual boyfriend.

It was only after a few awkward meetings that Mark started loosening up around him, and stopped warily regarding him as competition. Jinyoung, on his part, did everything short of revealing his sexuality to reassure Mark that he wasn’t interested in Jackie _that_ way. He didn’t blame Mark for jumping to conclusions, because he was starting to learn by then that almost every guy Jackie walked past fell head over heels for her. Honestly, if she were a guy she’d probably be right up his own alley too.

 

Soon they became a de facto trio, and on occasion Jackie would invite both of them to feature on her channel either together or separately. He was ashamed to admit he’d barely ever watched any of Jackie’s videos properly, despite knowing who she was and that she’s in their school, the campus belle. But he quickly made up for lost time, binge watching all the videos she currently had up on her glittery, traffic-heavy channel — she’s a finicky perfectionist and constantly deletes vlogs she deems unworthy.

From that alone, he has learnt that Jackie and Mark are _that_ nauseatingly adorable and loving couple, that social media darling and her prince so perfect together people could barf at their cuteness. He would be disgusted by them if not for the fact that they’ve pretty much become his best friends, and not just for the “popular clique” image.

He feels legitimate, since he’s probably the only guy (who wasn’t drooling at Jackie’s wet t-shirt) to watch all the “Boyfriend does my Makeup” and “Ice Bucket Challenge” videos they did together.

 

So when he heard of Mark’s interest to introduce him to his coursemate, he hadn’t been expecting Lin Zaifan to be Korean.

He told Jaebum as much at their first stilted meeting, soon after switching to Korean. Blowing up on Instagram hasn’t improved his awkward turtle-ness at first meetings one bit, but for the first time he’s relieved not to feel like a third wheel with Mark and Jackie.

He hasn’t ever been able to actually spell out his sexuality to both of them — or to _anyone_ , in Taiwan or Korea, really — so despite the fact that Mark has truly accepted him, they still feel like an unevenly rounded out threesome sometimes. Added to the fact that some fans have started leaving obnoxious Youtube comments demanding if Jackie is cheating on Mark with him, or double-crossing, which Jackie either ignores or deletes if they get too invasive.

He’s more aware of his foreignness than any of them, the way he sometimes stutters out of nervousness during Jackie’s _mukbang_ lives, drawing their affectionate laughter and teasing. His Mandarin has gotten so much better since he started hanging out with them but he still doesn’t feel qualified to be making videos in Chinese, as if he’s a hack. Jackie always reads out comments from fans who adore his broken Chinese, though, and asks him if he’s interested with a quizzical glint in her eyes, but that’s probably his imagination.

He had a feeling Mark knows, though, when once he lost his cool and swore out an outrageous viewer who went too far with a joke calling Jinyoung Jackie’s “sassy gay friend”. Even Jackie looked shocked and momentarily thrown by his uncharacteristic rudeness, but quickly recovered.

 

“Zaifan’s doing his first exhibition,” Mark raved the first time they all hung out together, for once not the quietest in the conversation. Jaebum hung back, his eyes carefully lowered, shy. When he spoke up hesitantly to introduce himself, Jinyoung’s heart leaped at his accent.

“Gosh, that’s perfect exposure for Zhenrong! _Xuezhang_ , do you follow his Insta?”

He’d nearly balked at both of them seeming to be carrying out the conversation on his and Jaebum’s behalf, and embarrassing him in the process before he’d even spoken a word.

To his utter mortification, Jaebum nodded, smiling. His eyes met Jinyoung’s for the first time, a brief searching look. Jinyoung had the indescribable feeling he was being drunk in by Jaebum’s gaze, catalogued, almost.

Later, it all made sense when he found out what Jaebum does. He’d grown even more uncomfortable when Jaebum revealed, “It’s my first time working with a human subject. I usually do landscapes, still lives; stuff like that. My professor said I had to branch out.”

 _Branching out?_ With Jinyoung? Tripping over his Mandarin, he’d immediately started declining with pained politeness, saying he wasn’t right for the job and Jaebum should photograph someone else instead — maybe Jackie; hell, Mark would be a much better “subject” than him.

But — “We aren’t free to help,” Jackie had cut him off bluntly, and a little smugly. “Mark has his own project, and I have to be his model, right, _oppa_?”

Jinyoung blushed then — Jackie had started this ridiculous and unnerving habit of calling him that teasingly a week ago, although they’re the same age — and before he could wrap his head around it, heard a shutter clicking. He whipped around, mouth open, to see Jaebum looking sheepish and lowering his camera.

“S-sorry, I just —“

“It’s okay! What a great photo to start off the collection!” Jackie said loudly, overriding Jinyoung’s protests and Mark’s muffled laughter.

“Just give it a go, okay?” Jackie whined persuasively later, batting her false lashes. “For me?” He’d relented helplessly, the only thing a gentleman could do.

 

And truth be told, he hasn’t regretted getting to know Jaebum. He’d immediately trawled through his followers to find what he guessed to be Jaebum’s account, and followed him back. It was private, but Jaebum granted him access almost as quickly. It was a singular pleasure, spending the hours of that afternoon leisurely scrolling down Jaebum’s feed, full of pictures that made his heart sort of just… settle down.

He’d ended up liking an embarrassing and uncountable number of them. He couldn’t imagine himself ever being placed up there, along with those breathtaking pictures that didn’t seem to be taken in this country, this world. He made a mental note to tell Jaebum to show him every picture he took, and put none of them up.

 

“So after that, you just jumped right into taking photos with a professional camera?”

They resume their conversation from the seaside the next day, walking through campus. He’s busy stuffing a messy sheaf of loose-leaf into his shoulder bag and doesn’t notice Jaebum’s camera until the telltale click.

Part exasperated and part amused, he looks up, the papers threatening to fall. “What did I tell you about warning me?”

“Sorry.” He’s getting to know Jaebum’s hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar expression awfully well. “But you know, as they say… the best pictures are the ones taken by surprise.”

“I think you mean the most unflattering ones,” Jinyoung grouches. “Send that to me for my IG.” He smiles winsomely at Jaebum, trying not to show how eager he is to see that picture.

“Maybe,” Jaebum says, enigmatically, as always. He’s been obligingly sending Jinyoung photos now and then, the off-takes he’s not planning to use for his project. They all come out beautifully, so Jinyoung doesn’t know why he’s not satisfied with them; but he’s held off posting any online so far. Jaebum hasn’t forbidden him, and he knows they’ll be good promotion, both for Jaebum’s project and for his own reputation, but there’s just a casually intimate feel about them that he wants to keep to himself, just a while longer.

 

Now, Jaebum finally relegates his beloved camera to his battered duffel, and takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He looks tired, younger.

“Of course not. I had to learn all the proper techniques from scratch.” A smile flickers across his face. “I consulted my parents first, but they left it up to me; so I had pretty much no more excuses for not making the decision on my own. I spent my whole post-graduation summer going on long walks alone, taking pictures of mundane, everyday stuff in Korea until I got sick of seeing the same scenery every day, but not really. I guess I just wanted to prove my mentor right when he said I needed fresh eyes, a new country to photograph.

“How could I ever grow tired of Seoul if I tried?”

The soft light in Jaebum’s eyes tugs a pang in Jinyoung’s chest. He’s nodding, unconsciously. Jaebum’s voice brings him back from his drifting as he goes on without stopping.

“Anyway, first I was just playing around, nothing serious. I was emboldened by the praise and kinda cocky; so I just started snapping random photos with my phone everywhere I went, tons per day. I busted the memory. None of them were much good, but the praise’d gone straight to my head and they all looked amazing to me suddenly. But I was just surprised by how much I enjoyed it.”

Jaebum laughs suddenly, remembering. He scratches the back of his head, embarrassed, and ducks it down, a gesture Jinyoung is starting to be familiar with.

“You’re too modest. I bet they were good too,” he blurts out, not thinking, but Jaebum looks up, surprised.

“Really? Thanks.”

Jinyoung nods, grinning. He is, in fact, sure.

 

“And… what about you? Why’d you come to Taipei?”

They’re getting _yanshuji_ and _zhenzhu naicha_ on another afternoon, and Jaebum doesn’t allow him to pay. He’s expecting the by now familiar click to catch him off guard while taking the first bite of the savoury deep-fried cutlet, but instead it comes with his extra-unglamorous sip of too much boba, too little tea. He nearly chokes sputtering with mock outrage.

“I will disown you if that ever gets out,” he threatens, waving his chicken helplessly, and Jaebum snorts, shoving his cutlet under his armpit as he eagerly checks the screen.

“Don’t worry, you look as handsome as always,” he says in Mandarin, making Jinyoung flush to his roots.

 

“So?” Jaebum prompts him again later, after Jinyoung thinks he’s forgotten and he doesn’t have to answer the question. “What brings you so far away from home?”

Jinyoung hadn’t realised it wasn’t just a throwaway question. Jaebum is peering at him, seeming genuinely interested in knowing, his precious Canon forgotten and dangling around his neck as he systematically demolishes his cup of boba.

“I…” Jinyoung checks himself, pausing. _I wanted to run away to a place where no one knows anything about me_.

“I wanted freedom,” he finishes, smiling. “I wanted to… be myself.”

“And Jinhae-gu didn’t let you do that?” Jaebum is smiling back, but warmly. It’s the first time Jinyoung’s seen him look kind of… well, gentle.

Silence as he’s at a loss for words, then Jaebum rejoins, “I visited your hometown once to photograph the cherry blossom festival for my high school art final. It’s kind of wild that we’d never have met, if we never left Korea, huh?”

“Wild,” Jinyoung echoes, thoughtfully. “Wait… are you walking me home? How’d you even know where I live?”

Jaebum looks slightly awkward without his camera, wringing his hands with his sheepish — playful — half-grin. “Jackie told me. She said to walk you home if I kept you out too late.”

“Jesus,” Jinyoung mutters under his breath, tossing the balled up wrapper into a nearby bin. Does she know? Did she figure it out herself, or did Mark discuss it with her?

His thoughts are interrupted by a faint but unmistakable click.

“Hey!” Jinyoung can’t stop himself from kind of yelling. His raised voice makes both of them flinch, and Jaebum’s eyes widen, but he suddenly feels sick. “Dude, insensitive much? Can’t you see I’m having a moment?”

“Jinyoung, I’m sorry —“ It’s the first time Jaebum’s addressed him, but he’s too annoyed to even care.

“God,” he mutters again under his breath, knowing he’s too harsh but deliberately being so, “There’s a time and place for everything.”

“Jin—“ Jaebum starts helplessly, looking forlorn with his camera dangling uselessly from his shoulder, but doesn’t follow as Jinyoung strides away.

 _Are you home safe?_ He receives a text from an unknown number an hour later. Goddamn his best friends.

 _Delete it_ , he replies without answering the question.

 

Jaebum doesn’t contact him for awhile after that, despite that being their first text message exchange. Jinyoung is too prideful to ask Mark or Jackie about him, so he just goes about his days, putting on a cheerful smile, goofing around like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Mark and Jackie are more annoyingly blissful than ever, flaunting the couple tattoos they recently got at every opportunity.

“How’s Jaebum?” Mark asks him once, puzzling Jinyoung.

“How would I know? Isn’t he your friend?”

Mark looks thrown too, pausing. “Well, we’re not really — all that close, to be honest. I’d barely talked to him a few times before he approached me to ask you to model for him.”

Wait, what? “He _chose_ me? I mean… didn’t you recommend me to him?”

Mark rubs his nape. “No, he definitely hit me up first. I thought he wanted me to help him ask Jackie at first — I’ve gotten _hella_ requests for her to model from our other classmates — so I was pretty surprised when he mentioned you. I mean, no offence man, but I didn’t know he’d been following you on Instagram, did you?”

“No, I didn’t either,” Jinyoung mumbles on autopilot, but his mind is already racing forward. His legs follow a moment later, blathering some lame excuse to Mark.

He finds the unsaved number in his text message history, and his fingers tremble typing out the three simple words.

_Where are you?_

No reply after five minutes. He thumps the wall beside him in frustration. Classes are over — has Jaebum already headed back to the university hostel where he resides?

Spurred into motion, he sends off another message before heading off campus.

 

When Jinyoung busts into Jaebum’s room like he’s the dean and Jaebum’s been caught smoking pot, the latter is just lying spread-eagled in bed, eyes glued to his phone like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

When Mark sent him Jaebum’s room number and added that he hadn’t turned up for classes today, Jinyoung guesses his imagination had just run wild.

He swiftly takes in the clutter of Jaebum’s room — it’s pretty organised, actually. But it doesn’t look like he’s gotten up for the day.

“Are you okay?” He strides right up to Jaebum’s bed, peering awkwardly down at him.

There’s no click this time, only silence. But the familiar discomfort in Jaebum’s eyes tells him Jaebum has just taken a picture with his phone. A picture of Jinyoung’s face from the bottom. What the hell.

That uneasy look is too obvious. No wonder he’s never been able to shoot “human subjects” before this. He’s way too shy to look anyone in the eye without the buffer of his viewfinder.

This time, Jinyoung doesn’t flare up or run away. He just stares down at Jaebum, brows raised incredulously, trying not to avert his eyes first until Jaebum sits up clumsily on his elbows.

“Uh… yeah. Why?”

_Why? Because you haven’t contacted me for two weeks; and why did you pick me to be your model?_

“Your project,” he chokes out instead. Jaebum looks confused. “Is it done?”

“Done? Uhh… yeah. I guess.”

“Really. And you didn’t tell me.” Jinyoung’s voice sounds flat again, against his will. He wishes he could compose himself, but he’s all out of control.

“Wait.” Jaebum sits up properly, and grabs his jacket. He makes himself decent, and stands up, towering over Jinyoung slightly, suddenly.

“I took the day off to work on the finishing touches. I was going to call you out tonight to thank you… maybe buy you a drink, but…”

Jinyoung looks up at him, waiting.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to meet me again,” Jaebum finishes lamely. Jinyoung’s eyes move absently behind him, to his cramped but cozy-looking bed. His indent in the sheets. He gulps, swinging his gaze back to Jaebum.

He didn’t think how this would look. If the other students saw him leaving Jaebum’s room.

“Sure,” he mumbles. “Whatever. Meet me downstairs in ten minutes.”

“What… why —“ He doesn’t hear the end of Jaebum’s sentence as the door closes behind him.

 

Jaebum sidles out of the dorm lobby exactly ten minutes later, his squinted eyes widening and relaxing when he sees Jinyoung still there. As if he thought Jinyoung had been pulling his leg.

A few guys Jinyoung vaguely knows are playing basketball on the dormitory court. Jinyoung wonders if Jaebum has ever photographed them; or just the court alone, when it’s empty and deserted.

“So where’re we —“ He starts stiffly, but Jaebum’s already taking easy strides across the court, cutting through the game with a friendly wave to the players. He signals to Jinyoung to wait where he is from the vending machine on the other side of the court, near the shut-down canteen.

“The drinks in that machine are actually really good,” he says, popping open the first can of winter melon tea for Jinyoung politely.

“Did you photograph it?” Jinyoung blurts out, and Jaebum looks surprised, then breaks into his wry lopsided grin.

“A couple of times.”

Jinyoung can’t help smiling. It’s a pretty machine, and a nice hostel. Jaebum seems to have settled right in here. He wonders if Jaebum ever feels the wisp of loneliness that seems to permeate all student dormitories, no matter how homey they may be.

Then again, he also realises how little he actually knows about this guy.

“It’s nice,” he says after a few sips.

“Right?” Jaebum empties his can and crushes it, tossing it into the recycling bin. Before Jinyoung can finish his, Jaebum smiles and takes his free arm.

“I want to show you something, Zhenrong,” he says in Chinese.

 

“What?” Jinyoung shakes off Jaebum’s grip when they’re on the rooftop, breathless from scampering up the few flights of stairs. He’s being oversensitive — the guys below are still absorbed in their game, not having noticed their departure.

“The view,” Jaebum replies simply, spreading his arm, and Jinyoung looks beyond them, raising his gaze to caress the horizon and even higher. It’s nearly twilight again — but still late afternoon. He can see what Jaebum means: the light at this hour of the day is kind of magical. And of course, light and shadow is everything to Jaebum — he must know every shift of the day like the back of his hand.

“What are you thinking?” Jaebum asks, almost as if he read his mind.

Jinyoung shakes his head, dazed. “Just… that you’re so passionate and talented. I’m sure the photos turned out great.”

Jaebum cocks his head, smiling coyly. “Have you ever had an ugly picture?” Jinyoung shoves his arm playfully.

“You’re talented too,” Jaebum says, settling down near the TV antennas. Jinyoung joins him gingerly, the ground of the roof warming the seat of his trousers. “I like your pictures,” Jaebum adds simply.

Jinyoung shakes his head vehemently, squirming simultaneously in pleasure and at the thought of Jaebum scrolling through his feed and rating his selfies. “You’re an artist. I’m not.”

Jaebum turns to look at him then, his mouth obscured by the shroud of the sun’s angle. His eyes smile, though.

“I think you are,” he says firmly.

Jinyoung’s face warms too. He clears his throat. “You… don’t want to shoot this?” He gestures to the sublime view.

Jaebum shakes his head. “I’ve already done it a dozen times. But still… I never manage to do it justice.” For the first time, he looks wistful.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jaebum breaks the silence, out of the blue.

Jinyoung jumps, his skin tingling. “For?”

“I didn’t do you justice, either,” Jaebum replies humbly, looking at his lap. “My photos — they’re never right.”

Jinyoung’s heart catches in his throat with sheer disbelief at what he’s hearing. “Are you serious right now? Have you even seen — your own photos?”

Jaebum just shrugs, dolefully.

“I’ve always been a perfectionist. And when I started snapping pictures, that was one of the things I loved — how once a picture was captured in freeze-frame, it couldn’t be edited or altered anymore. Even if the the subjects in it changed beyond recognition.

“For better or for worse, it was what it was. Honest and clear.”

“How do you feel when taking your favourite pictures? The ones you’re the most satisfied with?”

“Well, I feel… transported. Suspended in time. Like I told you, that’s what I really love most about photography — the ability to freeze a moment for eternity. To stop time.”

"..."

"I guess I feel... happy."

 

“Hold on to that feeling.”

“…”

“When you feel self-doubt, imperfection — hold on to that feeling, and don’t think about anything else.”

 

 _Hold on to that feeling, and don’t think about anything else_.

It’s his own words that are ringing in Jinyoung’s head another week later when he leaves the tattoo parlour recommended by Mark and Jackie with a minute tattoo of his own.

It’s far too small to be visible to the casual observer — even any of his followers who may have eagle eyes. It’s a secret, intimate like a candid photograph.

Before he can change his mind, he forcefully convinces himself that since he’s already gotten the permanent tattoo, he _has_ to show it to the person it’s meant for.

 

_Jinyoung, what’s this?_

_A tattoo._

_A real one?_

_Yes._

_Whoa._

_I’ve fallen in love. The way you love photography._

_Really?_

_What do you think?_

_That’s great…_

_It’s in Hangul… The person you like is Korean too?_

_It’s only for the eyes of that person_

_No one else._

_Then why are you showing it to me?_

_??_

_Jinyoung-ah? Are you there?_

 

“It’s my _baobei_ ’s first photo exhibition, everyone please come and show your support!”

Jackie finishes up her latest video with a blinding smile she unpeels the moment the camera stops rolling. Jinyoung is sitting opposite her, out of frame. Jackie folds up her selfie stick, businesslike and checks with him, “You’re coming, right? You know Zaifan’s the only one in class showing more than one photograph.”

“If I’m free,” Jinyoung mumbles vaguely.

“Come on!” Jackie exclaims, looking gutted. “Your fans are looking forward to the reaction video I promised when you see your photos.”

“Your fans, not mine,” Jinyoung mumbles, but forces a smile at Jackie’s sad puppy eyes. “I’ll try my best. Okay?”

“Yay!” His best friend flings her arms around him in a bear hug, and whispers in his ear cheekily, “I was just kidding about the reaction video; I’d never do you dirty like that.”

 

He’s okay with it, he finally decides after hours of tossing and turning in his dark room, turning his mind inside out in search of the honest truth. Even if Jackie and Mark know. Even if they all do.

And thank _god_ he does, because the moment he picks up his phone Jackie’s text pops up.

_He’s gone home. You can come now ;)_

_You need to see these._

He practically races back to school like a nitwit, his mouth dry, heart thumping in his throat. It’s that hour of noon with the fading light slanting in, dust motes illuminated. Jaebum’s favourite.

In that flattering light, Jinyoung sees the six pictures one by one. Their very first meeting almost half a year ago, Mark and Jackie blurred in the background; a flustered blush high on Jinyoung’s cheeks.

His cheeks, again, filled with bubble tea pearls, smile embarrassingly dorky.

Walking across campus with a harassed expression behind his glasses, struggling to tame papers flying from his half-open book bag. Disheveled and tired, but laughing.

Even a sneaky profile shot he doesn’t remember from the seashore, the sun setting orange around him.

 _Are you okay?_ His mouth slightly agape in mid sentence, lips pursing on the last word. But he doesn’t look a fool — in contrast, a strikingly… tender emotion is etched on his face. He was right — Jaebum’s phone photos are spectacular, too. Jinyoung feels himself blushing, alone in the dim.

He notes with relief that there’s no sign of the picture Jinyoung asked him to delete. He can only imagine how raw and exposed he looked — and can only hope Jaebum truly deleted every last trace of it.

He stops before the final picture. It’s rendered in black and white, artistically noir, and a flicker of bewilderment grips him before he realises why it looks so familiar: It’s _his_ picture -- the one he texted Jaebum -- but transformed subtly. The juxtaposition changing everything about his shaky phone photo. Another hand superimposed into the picture, almost, barely touching his fingertips. A matching tattoo that looks realer than real, still fresh, on the inside of the other person’s ring finger. _Yes_ , Jinyoung reads the Hangul of the single word with bated breath, then lowers his eyes to the title of the photograph beneath it.

 _Answer_.

 

His phone buzzes, making him jump in the empty lecture theatre. The sinking light and shadow is everywhere, splashed over Jaebum’s — _his_ — photographs, and nothing has ever looked so beautiful.

He fishes out the phone with clammy, trembling hands.

_I can’t stand waiting anymore_

_I’m heading over._

_Do you like them??_

_P.S. Look at the title of the exhibit_

 

Jinyoung backtracks to the first picture. Jaebum is in none of them, but his fingerprints are all over, unmistakable, full of feeling. He reads the tiny print below the picture, so understated not many would notice at first glance.

**Muse**

_Sometimes I do wonder if it was naive, a mistake to chase this dream all the way here. But I'm glad I did, because it led me to you_.

 

 

While waiting, he finally saves Jaebum’s number into his phone.


End file.
